What to Do When Your Tomato Becomes Pregnant
by 78meg9
Summary: It's Antonio's fault, really. But when Romano's life gets turned upside down, he has to face the consequences. He just wishes his stomach wasn't so big. (Deanoning from the kinkmeme WARNING: Mpreg.)
1. Chapter 1

**I am not going to lie: this was my first Hetalia story. It is the longest thing I've written so far, and I started way back when the kinkmeme was on livejournal. **

**Which is to say, I wrote this for a mpreg prompt. Once the kinkmeme switched to dreamwidth, I couldn't find the thread and left the story abandoned. I hope to remedy this, but even having said that, my writing has progressed... a lot since I wrote this.  
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**Yet even then, it's mpreg so enjoy!**

**I do not own the characters, and I'm terribly sorry for my 14 year old writing. (Also- no explanations. It's totally up to you)**

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><p>If there was one thing Romano did not plan on, it was getting pregnant.<p>

Yeah sure, he and Spain tended to be together in a bed more often than not, and protection was the last thing on both their minds, but there was the little fact that Romano was _male_. As far as he knew, getting knocked up was not possible. However, after staring at the tenth pregnancy test that he had finally convinced himself to buy, and eventually believing the little pink plus did not mean infertile, he was starting to think that maybe it might be the slightest bit possible.

"ANTONIO!"

The shout echoed throughout the large house, out through the door, bounced around the country side and finally reached the ears of the man in question (well, exclamation). Spain, who had been hunched over inspecting a newly budded tomato, straightened up and after debating whether it was a real emergency, or just Romano shouting about the kitchen he was supposed to have cleaned, he put down his basket of ripe tomatoes, and headed inside.

Out of all the things he had expected though, Romano curled in a ball on the bathroom floor crying, was not one of them. "Lovino?" Spain frantically asked, attempting to pull apart his lover's make shift cocoon of bath towels so he could hug him properly. "Why are you crying? Did you hit your head on the sink again? I told you to let me help when you can't reach the top shelf!" But instead of a response, or an angry shout of 'I am perfectly capable of reaching things on my own! That was one time!', Romano just seemed to cry louder and sink further into the corner of the bath tub and the wall.

Seeming to realize his tactic of guessing what was wrong was only to met with failure (But not after suggesting every other time Spain had found Romano sobbing in a corner), Spain looked around to see if his tomato's cause of distress was still lurking. A quick check of behind the shower curtain proved fruitless, there was nothing but his missing shoe in the bathroom drawers, and only assorted cleaning products resided under the sink. Thoughts of giving up and trying to have Romano tell him what was wrong again were cut short when his eyes fell on the trashcan. It was overflowing with- pregnancy tests? Oddly enough, they were all positive too. "Um, Lovino? Why are there pregnancy tests in the trashcan? Is that why you're crying?"

That seemed to hit the nail on the head, and Romano gave a quick nod. However, this only added more questions than answers. Had Belgium been over? Was she pregnant? Actually, was she even dating anyone? Ruling out Belgium, and really every other women Spain knew, the answer seemed to take form in the shape of a cute, temperamental Italian who was -now- silently crying right in front of him.

Dropping to his knees, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted, Spain quietly whispered the question he already knew the answer to. "Lovino... are you pregnant?"

Three calls, five hours, and two more major freakouts later, Romano found himself sitting in the dull waiting room of a human doctor's office.

Spain was there to, but instead of sitting in the faux calmness Romano was practicing, he was wearing the carpet thin by pacing back and forth, muttering to himself. It was enough to get odd looks from the other patients who had been forced to wait as well.

"What idiot gets a spoon stuck in their ear?" Romano thought, inspecting the man sitting with his back to him. Every now and then though, Spain would pass through his line of vision, cutting off his view. He turned to get a better look, but Spain found it necessary to stop right at the back of the chair that the newly named 'spoon bastard' was sitting in.

Growling, Romano decided to instead look around at the other poor suckers surrounding him in little uncomfortable chairs as well. There was a girl who was painting her nails for the second time, a young boy who was chewing on his oblivious father's tie, and an old couple who seemed to want to be anywhere but here. That made three of them.

Finally, after Romano had snapped and told Spain that he had best fucking sit down or he'd wake up with no toes, a nurse came to tell him it was his turn to see 'Dr. Malot'.

"Geez, that's a reassuring name", Romano muttered, glaring at Spain as they both took seats in an empty examination room.

"Aw, don't be scared Lovi! You're going to be fine, really. France told me about this doctor. He said he was in charge of dealing with nation related medical things! Cause we all tend to get um, odd problems."

"Are you calling my kid a problem?!"

"What? No! No- ouch! Don't hit me! Now that's not cute at all"

However, before Romano could continue his assault on his boyfriend, a nurse entered the room.

"Romano is it? You can follow me. We'll just be measuring your weight and height" And so Romano once again got to his feet to walk to another room. This process was sure fucking annoying.

After discovering that no, no matter how he looked when inspecting the mirror prior, he was no taller than he was last time he checked. Which was still shorter than Spain. However, the good news didn't stop there. He was actually heavier than last time he checked.

He was sent back to the examination room and told to wait for the doctor. Like a damn puppy. Though annoyed, he let Spain rub his back until the doctor finally showed.

The doctor, who showed up ten minutes after Romano had yelled at Spain to get his hands out of his pants, was a tall man, with gray hair and tiny glasses that almost slipped off his nose. He had a frown etched into his lips, and a German accent that made Romano dislike him instantly.

"Hello sirs, my name is Dr. Malot and I'll be taking care of you today. What seems to be the problem?"

"Well, I wouldn't say there's a problem, because it's actually really amazing!" Spain exclaimed, voice rising at amazing.

Well, that was different, Dr. Malot thought. It was definitely a first time someone described an ailment as amazing. "Amazing? How so?"

"Well-" Spain seemed to notice the death glare Romano was sending his way, and held his hands up placating. "Romano better tell you."

There was a pregnant pause (no pun intended), in which Romano simply stared hard at the floor. Seconds slowly turned into minutes. Dammit, he didn't realize how hard it would be to tell someone he was _pregnant_.

"Um... I think. Well, the stick said- there was a plus. And, and I tried different times and... I think I'm uh, pregnant."

"Mhm. If that seems to be the case, I do need to run a few tests."

"..."

"..."

Was he fucking serious? A guy- Romano- tells him he is pregnant and the asshole doesn't even bat an eye? "What the hell? Do people always come up to you to tell you they're pregnant? Did you even hear me right?"

The doctor reached to pick up his clip board, continuing on as if Romano had told him he had broken his pinky toe. "Well, people do tell me they're pregnant. However, it is mainly women. And some of those pregnancies turn out to be some other issue entirely. And since it is not possible for a man to have a child, that is what I believe you are going through. So we need to run a few tests and discover what really is happening. Would you describe for me the symptoms that have led you to that conclusion?"

Romano didn't think he hated anyone more than the potato bastard, but apparently he was wrong. He longed to reach out and strangle the bastard. Fucking jackass, treating him like he was five and lying about squirrels and such.

Spain, having been watching the doctor with a curious expression, now reached over to grab Romano's hand. Whether he knew what Romano was thinking, or just wanted to hold his hand, the world may never know. However, it did calm Romano down just enough to answer Dr. Bastard's question.

"Um, three months ago I was getting tired and cranky, more so than usual. Then I couldn't eat tomatoes anymore. I, I ate a potato. And liked it! Then I had to fucking pee, constantly. Which would have been somewhat normal except I uh, noticed this."

Romano untangled his fingers from Spain's and lifted up his shirt. Sure enough, a clear bulge was poking out of his stomach.

"So I went and bought a pregnancy test, because Elizabeta said something when I was little and figured it couldn't hurt. So then I tried another and another. It became pretty fucking clear past that point"

"May I?" Dr. Malot asked, leaning to inspect Romano's stomach. "Aw, yes Elizabeta. She was here a few days ago with Gilbert. Something about a frying pan accident and such. Could you lift up you arms? Okay, now breath in, breath out..."

An hour flew by. 'Dr. Bastard' had made him pee in a cup, wait, listen to his heart beat twenty five times, made him wait, made Spain wait. Took a blood sample, and made them both- once again- wait.

"If we wait any longer, it's going to be pretty damn clear whether I'm carrying your little brat or not!" Spain looked hurt, and maybe Romano felt a little bad for lashing out, but that still didn't change his mind. This was getting ridiculous.

"I know it's hard, but look on the bright side! You get to spend time with me!" Spain chirped, like the fucking birdbrain he was.

"Why the hell would I want to spend time with you? And besides, I might as well live in your house with the amount of time I'm over there."

"Yeah, but we're all alone here. And besides, I don't believe we've had sex in a doctor's office before..."

He had best be fucking joking. "Sex is what got us here in the first place. Hey, hey! Stop getting so close!"

Romano was sure they were ten seconds away from full blown make-out session, when the doctor finally stumbled in. He jumped back, pushing Spain away as hard as he could, but the doctor paid neither much attention.

"I have some big news"

So he finally saw Romano was right. That would teach him about disregarding Romano's amazing intuition.

Dr. Malot took a deep breath, as if preparing himself for something. "Congratulations. You're having twins."

There was dead silence in the room, perhaps the same silence that should have come from Romano declaring himself pregnant in the first place.

"T-twins?", Romano stuttered, unsure if he heard right. There was no fucking way he was having twins. No, no nononono. It was bad enough accepting the fact that he -Romano, the MALE southern half of Italy, brother of both Veneziano and Seborga, proud hater of potatoes- was _pregnant_. But pregnantwith _twins_?

"I checked every possible alternative. I ran every test possible. Without a doubt you're pregnant-"

"Um, excuse me", Spain asked, cutting him off. "How do you know it's twins?" Romano nodded eagerly, looking for some explanation.

"Normally there is one heartbeat, just yours. But each time I got three different results. Yours, and two others. There really is no other explanation I can think of."

"What if the baby has two hearts?" Spain questioned.

"What kind of stupid ass question is that?" Romano screeched, face red with anger. However. the doctor seemed to take the idea into serious consideration.

"Well, it may be possible. Nothing like this has every happened before, and every variable is a factor."

"No! My baby is not a freak!" Romano shouted, clutching his stomach protectively. Spain immediately enveloped Romano in a hug, whispering apologizes.

"Shhh, shhhh that's not what I meant Romano. I'm sorry, lo siento."

Dr. Malot payed the two no mind, as he was preoccupied with scribbling down his phone number. "Here", he started handing it toward Romano. "Call me immediately if anything unusual occurs, or if you have any questions. It is essential you track your pregnancy as well. Nothing like this as ever happened before, and we need a reference if it does happen again. You are free to go, but no strenuous labor, or anything of the sort."

Romano stood up, stumbling out of the doctor's office. "Thank you!" Spain called as they left.

They were in for a bumpy ride.

[=]

"You're going to have to tell him at some point, Lovino" Spain called to the unresponsive Romano lying on the couch. "He might become suspicious if you disappear for nine months and refuse to call or go home."

Romano scoffed, moving to stand up. "Feliciano wouldn't bat an eye at me dropping off the face of the earth for three years, much less nine months. Besides, he'll just think I'm ignoring him. Not to mention he has that potato freak he's gaga over."

"Okay, but what about Bella? Can't I at least tell Francis? Someone is going to think something's wrong!"

Romano just rolled his eyes, knowing far too well nobody gave a shit if he didn't make a social appearance. It's not like he really had any friends to worry about finding out, as he tended to keep to himself. He was perhaps the complete opposite of his brother, who was the center of attention anywhere. Fuck, if Romano walked outside of the house (most likely with Spain frantic by his side) seven months along, no one would look his way.

However, Romano did know Spain had a lot of friends. And acquaintances. And past enemies. And past colonies. And- fuck. Half the world would notice is Spain didn't show show at some social gathering or another without his 'precious tomato!' trailing around behind him. Even if Spain went alone, he was bound to spill what Romano has made him swear was a secret. He could just imagine how Spain would carelessly tell every damn thing in the room.

"Hola Francis! Sorry I didn't call, but Lovino's pregnant so I'm not aloud to tell anyone- whoops!"

"Oh, lo siento! I didn't see you there! Hey, I'm sorry about your suit- Lovino's going to have a baby!"

Gilbert! Did I tell you the secret I was supposed to not tell anyone? No? Well, Lovi got pregnant!

"My, what a cute little potted plant! Why, I bet you're the only one in this entire room who doesn't know I fucked Lovino and knocked him up!"

Just thinking about it made Romano mad, and he stewed quietly. Who does that bastard think he is? Going to a party without him and leaving him all alone while he carelessly throws Romano's pride out the window? It's not like Romano needs him. No, not at all. Fuck, he could stay at that party for all he cares, and leave him to raise his own fucking kids!

"Lovino?" Spain asked, finally emerging from the kitchen.

"You bastard! Why the hell do you think you can just leave me like that? I'm carrying your fucking kids and you expect me to raise them all alone while you have fun somewhere else?"

"What? Lovi, you aren't making any sense-"

"What the fuck do you care?"

"Lovino, come on now. Sit down." Spain commanded, navigating a now sobbing Romano to the couch. "Shh, stop crying. What do you mean leave you? Why would I leave you?"

"Because I'm fat and weird and ugly and demanding and stupid and-"

Romano's rant was cut short by Spain pulling him into a kiss.

"No. No diga eso. You're pregnant, with my child. You aren't fat, and certainly aren't weird. Don't ever think that. And as for leaving you, I would never. Not now, not ever."

Sniffing, Romano scrubbed his hands against his eyes. Damn hormones. Making him cry or something as stupid as a daydream. He had to remedy the situation. However, instead of a response that proved him indifferent from Spain's love and affection, the only thing he could get out was, "...really?"

"Yes, and I'll show you." With that, Spain leaned down to kiss Romano again. Soon Romano found himself pinned against the couch, with one very eager Spaniard plastered to him. Spain grinned when he felt Romano respond, shyly at first even after all the times they've kissed.

Spain reached up to grip that one curl he knew had an effect (Though, in all honesty, the knowledge of this amazing ahoge was a mystery for quite a while). Romano gasped, face growing red and eyes shut tight.

Romano couldfeel Spain's smirk as he gripped his curl, but all he could do was moan as Spain's hand drifted lower and lower down his body until- shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.

"No!" Romano gasped in a panic. "No! We can't! I'm, I'm pregnant!"

Spain withdrew his hand immediately, expression of that of confusion. "But-"

"No. No fucking buts. I have no idea if it's safe or not, and there is no way I'm taking a fucking chance!" And it seemed for the hundredth time since he first found out he was pregnant that Romano was clutching his stomach protectively

"Aw! Lovino! You're already such a caring mommy~" Spain said smiling, wrapping Romano into a hug, apparently over being denied sex.

"Yeah yeah, shut up already would you- what did you call me?"

Spain froze momentarily, mid cuddle. "um... a mommy?"

"I AM NOT A FUCKING WOMEN YOU BASTARD!"

Groaning, Spain could only watch Romano storm away from his position on the floor. It appeared sex was out of the question but headbutts were just fine. Huh.


	2. Chapter 2

**So we meet again, fanfiction from my yesteryears. Do I have to add a warning? Guys it's mpreg. Read at your own risk**

**And as a side note, Germany and Italy! Have y'all ever noticed, that 9/10 in a Spamano story, there's Gerita? **

**But no matter! Enjoy!**

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><p>For as long as Spain knew Romano (and mind you, that is quite a while), he had never been one to openly show affection. The only time Romano had been willing to cuddle would be lying in bed after sex. And as far as Spain was concerned, there had not been sex. At least since that one time in the tomato fields- most likely the time Romano got pregnant. But still, the fact remained Romano had slipped his hand in his, and smiled (honest to God <em>smiled<em>) as they walked home from the store.

More than a tad concerned, probably more so than when Romano had screamed at him for not adding American potatoes into the pasta, Spain resolved to keep a close eye on Romano from there on out. Which honestly wasn't hard since he had been doing the exact same thing since Romano became pregnant.

"Antonio?" Romano asked tentatively, swinging their linked hands together. The only response Spain could muster was a quiet "Hm?", and Romano rushed into his question before he lost the nerve.

"Do you think I'd be a good parent?"

Spain tightened his grip on Romano's hand. "Oh course! Why do you ask?"

"Because. Reasons" Spain frowned a little at Romano's response, waiting for him to continue. Eventually, the silence became too much, and Spain stopped walking, causing Romano to pause as well.

"Like what?" Spain prompted, trying to meet Romano's elusive gaze.

"I- I well, um, I don't want for our kids to get all messed up because of me. I mean, you say I'm all these things I'm not, and I don't- I couldn't stand it if he or she hated me. I know what I'm like and, hell, everybody knows what I'm like and I don't know what to do and I'm, I'm scared."

Spain stayed quiet for a minute, debating on the best course of action. Finally he chose the one most natural to him. Pulling Romano into a tight hug, and continuing as though he never planned on letting go.

"I'm scared too you know. I'm scared for you and I'm scared for the babies. And as for being a horrible guardian, I would like you to name one person who could be better than you at raising a child, and I will prove you wrong."

"Feliciano."

Spain froze, processing the idea. Italy? A mother.. er, father... care taker? The idea slowly sank in, and almost without realizing it, Spain burst into a laugh.

"What?" Romano shouted, pushing Spain away, cheeks ablaze. "Why the fuck are you laughing?"

Spain tried to suppress his laughter, but the more he tried to imagine Italy caring for child, the more he laughed. As much as he adored the younger Vargas brother, the whole idea of him in charge of another life was commercial.

"Bastard! That's not funny! If you think my idea is stupid just fucking say it!" Spain was dragged down to earth by Romano's hurt expression, and quickly tried to make amends.

"No! I don't think it's stupid, just silly. Why would Feli be any better than you as a parent? As long as I've known him, he's always been kinda spacey. I just think someone would get really hurt under his watch if no one else was around."

Romano entertained the thought for a second, but quickly shot it down. "No, he's got Potato Bastard to help him. And that's not why I thought he'd be the better parent. He's always so nice and sweet and stupid crap like that. Hell, even I would rather have him than me."

Spain just shook his head. How did Romano think so low of himself? "No querido, you're wrong. Anyone who knows you- really knows you- can tell you. You're not so easily likeable, yes, but that's what makes you so perfect. Because it takes getting time to know you to see all the amazing qualities you have. Our bebé is going to love you, just as much as I do."

There was silence in the moment following, Romano looking like he was attempting to absorb Spain's words. Then, rising to stand on the pads of his feet, he pulled Spain down and kissed him sweetly. "I, I love you too." And, almost as if he was debating whether or not to say his next words out loud, Romano sputtered, "And, and you k-know, if you'd like to show me. That you love me and all. You can do that. I called the doctor to ask, and he said it's perfectly fine. So yeah."

Smirking, Spain swept Romano's feet out from under him, and caught him in the same motion. "I believe I have no choice then. If mi corazón wants my curro, then that's what he'll get."

[=]

Despite what Romano believed, Italy did notice he was missing. A voice mail was all the warning Romano received before his brother was all but trying to knock down the door. Not like he could however.

This could have all been fine -Romano could have just dealt with his idiot brother and hit the potato bastard and all would have been well- had he not been fucking huge (by his standards at least. Dr. Malot had said he was due to be a lot bigger in the coming months).

Though there were ways around the baby (or babies) bump, as he had learned. Wearing baggy clothes for one, works. Or he could just causally hide behind something that would cover his entire body and he'd be good to go. Both options were perfect if he wasn't extremely picky over his clothes and wanted deal with Spain's disapproval of 'hiding the babies'. Which he didn't, thank you very much.

Then there was the option where he actually told Veneziano that he was careless and stupid and a freak, who actually somehow got pregnant. Which was not happening, so what was the point of considering it?

The knocking grew louder and more insistent. Romano knew from experience that Veneziano would stay out there until he opened the door, trying everything from crocodile tears to begging his boytoy to knock the door in. Romano just had to wait them out.

Suddenly though, there was the turning of a lock, and a cheerful hello.

"Hola!"

That jackass. Spain had caved and opened the door, against Romano's strict orders not to. Well, just because they were in doesn't mean Romano had to make an appearance. He'll just camp upstairs until they left.

Of course fate wasn't on his side. And neither was Spain it seemed. The third time Veneziano asked- Romano could actually hear his whining from the closet he had locked himself in- Spain directed him upstairs.

Veneziano left no bedsheet unturned, bathroom unsearched, or closet unchecked. Which was how Romano found himself face to face with his little brother, awkwardly standing in the half darkness of the closet, once again clutching his stomach.

"Fratello! I was so worried about you!" Veneziano shouted, throwing his arms around his brother in a tight hug. "Why were you avoiding me?"

"Who said I was avoiding you?" Romano growled, trying to squirm out Veneziano's hold.

Veneziano gave him an incredulous look. "You were hiding in the closet"

Romano, still struggling, tried to come up with a half assed excuse. Usually anything would work with this dimwit. "I was, um looking for something."

"Oh really? I'll help!" Case and point.

Finally released from 'hug therapy' Romano began walking to the door. "I found it already, idiota. Come on, I'm hungry."

Completely ignoring Veneziano's questions as to what exactly he was looking for, Romano arrived at the kitchen a few seconds before his brother, who was distracted by a painting in the hallway. Which meant he couldn't stop Romano from kicking Germany out of the kitchen.

"Why'd you do that?" Spain asked, continuing to stir whatever he was making on the stovetop.

"Because. He might try to make to food more German." Romano said, scowling.

Spain just sighed, refraining from pointing out that now Germany and Veneziano were alone in the hallway. "But he's our guest."

"No," Romano snorted. "He's your guest. I wasn't going to let them in"

A startled gasp in the doorway revealed Italy, who had been listening in on the short conversation. "You, you weren't going to let me in?"

Shit, now he was going to cry. Good going. To prevent this catastrophe, Romano somewhat reluctantly pulled his brother into a hug.

"Don't cry, you'll get the floor all wet"

"I knew it! You were hiding from me! Why are you so mean?"

"Gah! Stop crying. Feli I'm serious! Fine, I'm sorry, okay?"

And in mere seconds, Veneziano went from crying to smiling. Spain smiled as well, and turned back to the stove. Germany stood next to him, offering to help clean. All was fine, until Italy noticed something was off.

"Wow Fratello... you're getting really big! Did you eat too much pasta?"

Romano squeaked in response, face growing red. "What the hell Feli? I'm not fat!"

"But your stomach is really big..."

Veneziano trailed off, moving to pull up Romano's shirt. Romano in turn leapt away, dashing toward the other side of the kitchen. Veneziano moved to follow him, but was stopped by Germany.

"Feliciano, what did I say about personal space?" Germany started, resisting the urge just sigh and leave the brothers to their own devices.

"Not to touch people?"

"No, that's not what I said."

"Oh, well I don't remember! And in any case, I only touched his shirt!" Italy managed to wriggle out of Germany's hold, and dashed back to where Romano was standing. He reached out a hand to touch his bulging middle. "See Fratello! You've stomach really is-"

Whatever Veneziano had been trying to say was cut short as he let out a quick scream, dashing behind Germany. "It kicked me!" He wailed, clutching Germany's shirt. "Romano! Your stomach kicked me!"

[=]

There was really no way to properly respond to such a comment. He was found out, it was all over. Romano could see the confusion in his brother's face and the nonchalant shrugging of Spain's shoulders, as if to say, "the jig's up".

Well the jig wouldn't be up until Romano said it was. And if there was one thing Romano was good at, it was being completely stubborn in matters that would probably benefit him to tell the people who would care and who deserved to know.

Like explaining he was pregnant to Veneziano after he, you know, got pregnant.

"Can I talk to you?" Romano finally settled on. He eyed Ludwig's confused face and felt a well of irritation rise up. "...Alone?"

"You aren't going to kick me too, right?" Veneziano asked, looking extremely concerned.

Of course he was going to kick him. "No I won't kick you."

"Alrighty, lead the way!"

Romano turned on his heels and walked into the living room. Once both brothers were seated next to one another on the couch, Romano began to talk.

"Okay, so you know how I haven't been home recently and how it appears I'm avoiding you?"

"Yes..." Veneziano said, willing the conversation to go on.

"Well I was. Avoiding you that is."

Veneziano frowned, but Romano paid him no heed as he soldiered on. "But I have a good reason this time. Do you remember those weird lessons Elizabeta would always try and teach us when we were really little?"

"You mean when she would have us take care of those flour sacks? And after she tried to get Gilbert and Roderich to-"

"Yes!" Romano cut in, not keen on hearing a repeat of that instance. "And then what Francis told you about, you know, it?"

"Sex?" Veneziano asked innocently. Romano cringed, still trying to convince himself that all his little brother knew about sex had to do with pretty women strutting the market and nothing pertaining to the potato infesting his kitchen.

"Yes. Sex." Romano finally said.

The conversation stilled, the air filled with some sort of ambiance as Veneziano waited patiently for his brother to continue. But as the seconds ticked by, it appeared that Romano was going to do no such thing.

"So... sex and man-babies" Veneziano prompted.

Romano's face turned red and he looked like he wanted to crawl under a rock. Godfuckingdammit why was this so hard? First the doctor, now his brother. Romano had never been one to tell personal things to people, even when it really mattered, but this whole freak baby incident was way beyond his comfort zone.

If his comfort zone was a little typewriter in his head where not even he could read the truth sometimes, this situation would be neon lighted in the farthest reaches of outer space.

"Just tell him" Romano coached himself. He took one deep breath, then another, and finally spit out the words he knew he needed to say.

"I ate a potato on accident, and am now being consumed alive from a parasite that transferred into my stomach. I will be dead within a year's time. The kick you felt was actually it trying to claw its way out from me to you so that it may eat your flesh as well."

There was a deafening beat before Veneziano screamed and flung himself to the other side of the couch, desperate to put as much distance between them as possible. He overshoot and fell gracelessly to the floor, crying for Germany to come save him -and possibly his brother, Romano couldn't understand anything through his blubbering- from the thing in Romano's stomach.

Both Spain and Germany bolted from the kitchen at the cries, the former worried and the latter confused and possibly annoyed.

The sobbing boy on the floor flung himself behind the protection Germany provided by just existing, wailing all the while. "Lovino's going to die! And it's going to kill me! A potato parasite is going to kill me! I don't want to die! And what if I don't die?! What if I'm just mortally wounded and forced to lie in a puddle of my own blood? I don't want to dieeeeeeeee!"

As he cried out all he could, he seemed to realize something. "Wait- Ludwig eats potatoes too! You're going to infect me too!" he screamed, flinging himself back and into the hall and away from the 'potato infested German'.

Romano smirked, realizing the genius of the situation. Not only had he gotten around explaining what a freak he was, but now his brother was sure to stay far away from both potatoes and Germany. It was perfect!

But Romano's momentary victory died when he noticed the look of disapproval on Spain's face.

"Really Lovino?" He asked. His shoulders slumped as he let out his last sigh. "Why would you say something like that?"

Immediately Romano felt guilty for the disappointment in Spain's eyes and his cries of his brother, now curled in the hall. Why did Spain have that effect on him? One sentence and something he normally never gave any fucks about suddenly made his heart grow heavy with guilt. Maybe it was the hormones.

"It was just a joke." Romano defended, crossing his arms. He felt a strong sense of dismay as his arms could no longer sit comfortably on his baby bump.

"A joke?" Veneziano asked, hurt.

Spain looked equally upset. "So... this is a joke to you?"

"No!" Romano exclaimed.

"Then what?"

"What do you mean then what? It's kinda difficult you know! This isn't the kind of thing I can just say out loud and expect everything to be fine-and-fucking-dandy!"

Spain began to shout, exasperated. "You make it sound like every other time you told someone you were shunned! You weren't, not once! He's your brother for God's sake, he deserves to know!"

"...what do I deserve to know?" Veneziano cut in. He allowed Germany to help him up after it had become clear that a potato parasite was not the real explanation.

Romano turned to him, red faced and bitter, still unable to speak the words. "Nothing, it's none of your business"

"I think it is" Veneziano said. He refused to move neither closer nor farther away from his brother, but stood his ground.

"If you don't tell him, I will" Spain threatened.

Romano ground his teeth, feeling cornered. He battled himself in his head. He opened his mouth once, twice, three times before the words bubbled up in his throat, stopping there and suffocating him. "Fine" He chocked out. "Tell him"

"Romano is pregnant." Spain said instantly, throwing the dice onto the table.

There was never a tenser moment in the happy-go-lucky household. Everyone stood frozen, unsure about who would be right, unsure about how the others would react.

Finally, it was Germany who broke the silence. "That's... um..."

"SO AMAZING" Veneziano screeched, throwing himself at Romano.

Romano fell into the couch at the overexcited Italian, nearly crushed under the weight of the hug. "Stop!" He cried, shoving his brother away. "You'll hurt the babies!"

Veneziano froze instantly. "Babies?"

"Babies" Romano admitted.

"Oh that's even better! One for you, and one for Antonio! You can teach them to cook and when one gets really bad you can punish them and I can take the other out for pasta!"

"What? No! I am not punishing one of my children and rewarding the other, that'll mess them up as much as we are!"

"We aren't messed up..." Veneziano said.

'Tell that to my inferiority complex' Romano thought bitterly, but he kept silent. "Whatever" He spat out. Gingerly, he leaned to hug his brother.

"Uh... If you don't mind me asking" Germany said from the doorway he had stayed posted at since entering the room. "How does such a thing happen?"

"That's easy!" Spain chirped, all smiles. "When Lovino throws himself on the ground after we've been out in the fields a while, he kinda plays with his shirt and gives me this irresistible look-"

"That is not what I meant!" Ludwig shouted, mortified.

"Eh? Oh you mean the pregnancy. I don't actually know. Something about representing both male and female populations."

"How about when the, er, baby is due?"

Spain paused for a second, trying to think. "C-section. Or something. The doctor doesn't tell me much"

"C-section" Romano confirms from the couch. His words were mumbled to the point it was a wonder anyone heard him.

"This is so cool!" Veneziano trills. He throws a glance between Ludwig and Romano. "I want a baby too"

"No you do not" Romano snapped. "It's hell"

"I still want one"

Romano ground his teeth for probably the hundredth time that night. Before he could shake some sense into his brother, he noticed something. "Does anyone else smell something burning?"

The room's occupants sniffed the air, with all logic pointing to the kitchen. The distinct burnt smell of charred rice jolted Spain's memory.

"I left the stove on!" He wailed, darting from the room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Betcha thought I wouldn't get to posting ever. I feel like that for every scene I have to write, I have to down a thing of maple syrup. Sickening sweet and hard to eat on its own. (let's all pretend that made sense)**

**This may seem like it has no plot, and it doesn't, but I have a little check list going. I wrote down all the little events that could happen and if I time everything right I'm predicting two more chapters! (but don't take my word for it)**

**Three reviews and a ton of views! The amazing part is that so many people like to read mpreg but rarely announce it. I do the exact same thing though so no one's complaining! **

**Happy reading!**

* * *

><p>Romano watched from a safe distance away as Spain bid his brother and Germany farwell at the door, he himself having already done so a minute prior. As the door was shut at last and the audible roar of an engine started in driveway, Romano ambled towards the master bedroom, feeling unbelievably tired.<p>

He didn't waste time dressing for bed (or in his case, undressing), and instead chose to lie across the blankets and just stare at nothing.

Unconsciously, he began to stroke his stomach.

"Hello, whoever's in there" Romano whispered, reverently quiet. "That person you met, and kicked might I just say, was your uncle Feli. He loves you already"

A baby, Romano wasn't sure who, kicked at his soothing fingertips. Inwardly, he laughed. "But just remember, I'm going to love you more. I'm never going to punish one of you and reward the other, or tell you that you aren't good enough. And we're going to make cannoli on Sundays after church- all of us in the kitchen."

He could see it now, the scene so sickening sweet his teeth might as well of fallen out of his head.

_Two little girls dancing around him, the first wanting to add way too much floor __to the recipe__. He would try to tell her no, but it would be too late to stop as the cup -flour and all- fell into the mixture. Her dark brown hair was darker than Romano's by far and was falling out of her bun and into the batter as both he and she desperately tried to fish out however much they could. _

_ The second, shorter than her twin, sat on the counter next to her padre, both snacking on the chocolate chips that neither were allowed to touch. Her grin was bright and chocolate covered as she watched her small family try and fail to save the recipe. _

_ Spain was hit with a burst of passion as he observed them all, at least Romano imagined he would be, and scooped up his daughter before pulling them all into a hug. _

Romano was jarred out of his daydream by the creak of the door. He looked up to see Spain walk inside, trying to be quiet but it was pointless by that point.

"Hey" He said.

"Hey" Romano parroted.

Spain made his way across the room the perch himself down on the side of the bed. Fingers reached across the short divide the sheets presented and Spain traced them through Romano's hair.

"You never told me you could feel the babies"

Romano cracked open an eye, not realizing he had let them fall shut, and regarded Spain wearily. "Yeah well they don't do much at this stage so I didn't think it was a big deal"

"It is a big deal! Can I feel them? Do you think they'll let me?"

"They're babies Spain. If they want to kick, then they will, regardless of your desperation for love."

Spain ignored the jab and instead leaned over to finger Romano's enlarged stomach. Smooth hands caressed the stretched skin and carefully the brunette rested his ear on his lover's navel.

A barely there push from somewhere behind the babies' fleshy confinement greeted his efforts.

"Hola, mis hijos" Spain whispered. "I'm so excited to meet you!" Romano pushed weakly at Spain's head, and he looked up. "What?"

"They'll be girls, not boys."

"Oh!" Spain smiled again before adding, "mis hijas then. I love you so much already. And when you're born, we'll have so much fun, the four of us. I'll teach you Spanish and how to play football, and we can take naps and-"

"And I'll teach you Italian" Romano chimed in. "And how to cook, and how to stand up for yourselves. I bet hide and seek will be your favorite game"

Spain looked up at Romano. He seemed so happy.

"I love you" He said suddenly, like he couldn't hold it in any longer.

Romano spared him an odd look. "Well I would hope so."

"Say that you love me back, please?"

Romano puffed out his cheeks, but in the end he relented. "Fine." He said, propping himself up on his elbows. "I love you too." He put his hand on his stomach, almost as to sooth the small kicks to his stomach. "And I love you babies, even more than your papa ever will"

Spain was seconds away from cooing about how sweet his Roma was being until heard the last comment. "Not true!" He protested, putting his own hands over Romano's. "I'll love you just as much! Nay- I'll love you more!"

"Oh yeah?" Romano challenged. "I doubt it. I already love you- present tense. Your papa has got to see you to know his feelings. What a loser"

Spain almost frowned, but then he remembered his own secret weapon. "Don't be so mean, Lovi..."

"Or what?" Romano asked, smiling. "You can't hurt me. I'm untouchable."

"Not un_touchable_" Spain muttered under his breath. He was really just too cute. He sat up, almost as if he was going to leave. Then, without warning, he sprung, trapping Romano underneath him and he sent quick touches up and down his sides, under his arms, and under his chin.

"Stop!" Romano screeched, trying to wiggle away from the assault. "Don't- ahah! No! Hahaha!"

But Spain was merciless. Romano's laughter was damn near addicting, and he was on a roll. Finally, he pulled back. But the smile never left his face. "Untouchable still?"

"Shut up" Romano panted for a second before rolling to his side. "I'm tired"

"I bet" Spain flopped down onto his back, pulling Romano to his side. "I don't suppose you want to go to sleep right now instead of cleaning up the kitchen?"

"How about _you_ do it in the morning" Romano said, running his fingers up and down Spain's chest, like he was planning on seducing him into doing to dishes. Spain couldn't say it wasn't working.

"Alright" He agreed airily. "Anything for you" Together they curled up and fell asleep, dreaming of what it would be like to have a little family of their own.

[=]

The next morning, Spain was bubbling with energy. He knew exactly what Romano and he should do that day. They had spent so long cooped up in their little house, it was high time they went somewhere.

He cast a glance at his boyfriend, nibbling on croissant. The shirt he was wearing was bursting around the middle, almost popping the buttons. It seemed even Spain's shirts were becoming too small for the twins. There had to be some kind of clothing out there that was suited for pregnancy.

When he brought it up however, Romano scowled at him. "Hmm" Romano said, pressing his forefinger to his chin like he was actually contemplating it. "Shopping, with you, for dresses... How about, fuck no?"

"Come on, Lovi! It'll be fun!"

Romano sent him a wry look. "Fun for who? The freak or the gay fairy?"

Spain took on an expression that was unusually tart. "Don't call yourself a freak, mi vida. You are my life, my heart, my soul- but never a freak!"

The soon-to-be-mother rolled his eyes. Spain couldn't go half a day without saying that kinda thing. His words were too sappy to be believed, but even then Romano's heart performed a little tap dance. It must have been the hormones.

"Promise me you'll stop gushing and I'll go"

Hours later, Romano was being dragged along the newest shopping promenade, trying to avoid odd looks from strangers. There weren't many people out, thank the lord, but even being out in public made Romano feel self conscious.

On a normal day, it would be Romano doing the dragging as he went in and out of each store, keeping Spain on hand for his credit card and the vain hope that _this_ would be the day he cracked and bought a new wardrobe.

Three centuries in and Romano had yet to give up the promise Spain had some sense of fashion.

Today however, Spain knew exactly where to go. "It's right up here -_Lovi, please don't drag your feet_- I saw the sign for it on the highway. The best part it that they have things for you and the babies! Maybe we could matching outfits for all three of you- _ouch don't kick me_-_"_

Romano retracted his foot. Spain needed a kick in the knees every once a while. Besides, he was not sacrificing his fashion sense to fuel his boyfriend's cute fetish.

"And we're here!" The gray building loomed ahead of them, towering over Spain and Romano as if to say, "Bow puny mortals!"

Well the jokes on the building. Spain and Romano were not mortal.

"You're making weird faces" Spain whispered, watching Romano wearily as he looked like he was about to fight the cement walls. "Let's just go inside"

As they browsed the isles, Romano was hit by how little he was prepared to have a kid, not to mention two. There were things and trinkets and gadgets Romano couldn't even begin to comprehend the need for. Why was there a gerbil dribbler for _babies_?

Spain stopped to inspect the package. "A crib dribbler?"

"We are notgetting that" Romano snapped. He moved to the next isle, but stopped at a solid wall of diapers. "Holy shit"

"Oh yeah!" Spain chirped, suddenly next to him. "We're going to need to get diapers eventually. And uh, bottles and a crib and..."

Romano ignored him and he went on and on. He plucked the first of the mountain and threw it into their cart. "Got diapers."

"We might need a little more than that"

By the time the two made it to the clothing section, Romano couldn't see Spain's head over the cart. They had tried to get the cheapest brand of everything, but some things were so expensive!

It made Romano just the slightest bit sad. He wanted to give his children the world but between poverty, and national debt, and a whole lot of other shit, there really wasn't a ton of money to go around. He bet that if Veneziano got a baby, the tyke would be spoiled rotten in no time.

If there was one thing he could go back and change, it was being such a bitch. That way he could of married one of the richer countries, drained their pockets dry, and go live off with Spain on some private island without feeling physically ill.

Spain always said that doing that would have made him feel bad because he actually cared about people and not because he hated everyone too much to imagine marrying them. But what did he know?

It took a minute for Romano to realize that, in the midst of his thoughts, he had lost Spain.

"Hey, Spain?" No response. "Asshole? Tomato Bastard?" Nothing. "Antonio?"

"Over here, Lovi!"

Spain popped up from a stack of baby bibs and onesies. He was holding a little cute outfit that said 'thing 1' with one hand, and 'thing 2' in the other.

"I can't decide between this set and the one with bacon and eggs. Thoughts?"

"How about something normal like a blue and pink one?" Romano scoffed, picking through the outfits too.

But Spain couldn't just leave it at that. "But we don't know the genders yet-"

Romano rolled his eyes. "They're just colors, idiota. And they're babies. Who's going to care?"

Spain nodded. He tossed all six onsies into the cart and began walking again. "Good point! We can have them all. Let's go get you something." He stopped briefly, wearing the expression he always did when he was going to say something especially stupid. "Though to be honest, I'd rather you in nothing"

If that comment didn't earn him a slap to the face, the eyebrow waggle sure as hell did.

[=]

Time passed, and Romano was now officially six months in. The second trimester had just started and the relief was slow, but steady. Mr. Malot had promised this was the easiest part of the pregnancy. Which wasn't saying much but whatever

Morning sickness was just a fading memory, but backaches took its place. The worst part was he couldn't just lie down on his stomach and get a back rub. That usually worked after a rough night with Spain, but now that wasn't the case.

"Help me out here" He said, poking his boyfriend in the side.

"Mmmkay" Spain mumbled, rolling over and lazily waking up from his nap. Romano knew that he couldn't have been truly sleeping because waking Spain up was harder than getting his brother to stop eating pasta. "Roll over" He instructed.

Romano did as he was told, shifting a little so Spain could have better access. "So I was thinking" He started as Spain's hands started to work wonders on the small of his back. "of names"

"Names?" Spain prompted. He fingers trailed over an overly tense muscle and Romano hissed as he began to attack the soreness with vigor. "You have knots"

Romano tried not to moan as he felt the tenseness leave him in seconds. "Yeah. I've only got two girl's names though. I was thinking for Venicia for one..."

"Like Venice" Spain said, understanding. "After your brother"

"Yeah. Except, it's not a real name, you know? Plus what if she actually becomes Venice? That isn't my territory and I couldn't stand to lose her to Feliciano. So I was thinking of something like Maria"

"Maria sounds good" Romano seriously wondered if Spain's fingers were magical with the way they trailed across his skin. He tried to pay attention to what he was saying but it was hard. "I used to know a Maria. Or was it Marie? I can't remember. It's a popular name"

"How about you?" Romano asked, turning around a little. "Think of any _good_ names?"

"Why do you say it like I wouldn't come up with anything usable?" Spain retorted, removing his hands in retaliation. Romano scoffed.

"Because you named your turtle Antonio junior and when you had to pick my human name you came up _Lovino Vargas_. 'I ruin' with a Spanish last name. So yeah, you suck at naming organic creatures.

Spain laughed, pulling Romano close to his chest, wrapping his arms around him so he couldn't wiggle away. "But I like your name! That way I could call you Lovi; a lovely person and the love of my life"

"I'm just hearing sap over here. If you keep this up I'll name them both."

"Hmm" Spain hummed, seriously thinking. "How about Felicia for another girl name? That way you can still name one after your brother"

Romano stilled in his arms. Spain was just starting to think he had said something wrong when Romano rolled over, trying to hug him with the baby bump in the way. "Fuck" He muttered. "I love you"

Spain smiled, incredibly happy. "I love you too."


End file.
